What is love? What is murder?
by HollyPOP71
Summary: Intrigued, Gaara crept into Lee's bedroom moving cautiously, careful not to rouse the sleeping leaf. His life had become so complicated thanks to him. Inches away, the scars on the body clearly defined, he was so reckless, a well worn tool. Just to reliev


_iLove is a wild animal_

_It breathes you it looks for you_

_It nests upon broken hearts_

_and goes hunting when there are kisses and candles_

_It sucks tightly on your lips_

_and digs tunnels through your ribs_

_It drops softly like snow_

_First it gets hot then cold in the end it hurts_

_/i_

Stalking silently the shinobi sought out his victim. Fly to the spider. Predator to the prey. He licked his dry lips, his eyes intent on the prize. A worthy gift of green and orange. Such a fragile body for such a simple human. Always smiling brightly, never sad or lonely. Blood lust rose deep within Gaara. Madness ensnaring him, the venomous voices nibbling and gnawing at him, the uncontrollable desire to maim and injure. He wanted to taste the boys life. The first to hurt him, to touch him. He was a threat, he had penetrated the armour. He was at the core, he was the centre of Gaara's troubles.

Torrents of emotions assaulted the flame haired child, crouched in a tree, ready to pounce, to strike. The desperate whimpering of a lonely sad child, echoing in his ears. Evil voice hissing, terrorising the poor, pathetic child into a frenzied hysteria, incoherent, uncontrollable. Crying, so human, alone and scared. He was plagued by a monster, ripping and tearing at his mind, his body, his life. Sanity slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. Compacting around his skin, suffocating the human he was, just as the demon smothered him, he had lost himself in the depths of the quicksand. Choking his skin, transforming him, he had been moulded into a toy for higher powers to play with. He no longer had an identity, nobody knew him, they knew the blood thirsty, insane demon residing inside him.

The gourd on his back began to rasp dangerously, squirming impatiently, begging for release upon the ebony haired boys skin. It longed to work it's way into each of his pores, to crawl beneath his skin and inside his flesh. Ripping apart the micro fibres that made Lee's muscles, ripping apart Lee's hard work, destroying everything the boy had desperately clung to. How his insanity drove him to fantasize about such inhuman things, he hated seeing the boy so happy when he had nothing to be happy about. Such pointless affection nobody would return them, well except for that flamboyant, over dramatic sensei. Forever smiling, friendly face, caring and kind. Pitiful.

The spirit inside him flurried and licked his insides, contorting itself around his vital organs, thrashing against the bars of it's fleshy prison. He would make his move soon. He had to. Emotions were boiling and washing over him in waves. Boiling hot anger turned to warm curiosity then forced into an icy spite. His feelings towards the boy were unclear, to say the least. Human emotions are fascinating.

Pale moonlight spilled in through the open window, bathing Lee's body in it's serene glow. How peaceful he looked, almost dead. The white light paled his tan skin, causing it to contrast starkly with his tousled black hair splayed across his pillow. Scarred flesh rising and falling hypnotically as he took shallow, measured breaths. A quiet murmur braking the silence of the scene surrounding them. Unconsciously, Lee nuzzled into his pillow, fingers reaching to touch a person who wasn't there, a desperate longing to cling to someone, to ease the loneliness. For Lee was lonely, surrounded by friends but still without a lover, nobody to come home to at night. He had nobody to protect, what was his use as a shinobi without a special person? Without a purpose, he was simply a tool hardened for pointless wars over trees and grass. A weapon of Konoha, disposable. A louder incoherent mumble escaped into the night as he shifted onto his side, arm outstretched to caress the empty bed beside him.

Gaara felt drawn towards the older boy, he was real, he could be touched. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he remembered his first pain, his first intrusion. They were intimate enemies, Lee had been the first to touch Gaara, now Gaara would be the last to touch Lee. It hurt unbearably to think that the man he had almost killed was lying feet away from him, on an alter awaiting slaughter, yet the bloodstained demon could not bring himself to raise his hand towards him.

Intrigued, Gaara crept into Lee's bedroom moving cautiously, careful not to rouse the sleeping leaf. His life had become so complicated thanks to him. Inches away, the scars on the body clearly defined, he was so reckless, a well worn tool. Gaara's pale hand reached towards the hollow of the muscular neck, a flirtatious pulse racing beneath beautiful skin. Feral, leaning down, face to face with the vital pulse point. He longed to drink that blood, to taste it, to feel it on his skin, keep it with him forever. It would be immortalized in the gourd. Lee would finally belong to Gaara, he would finish when he started. Tendrils of sand weaving around Lee's neck, piercing fragile skin with razor points, letting blood flow freely.

Brown, doeful eyes, wide with terror stared at Gaara. He didn't struggle or resist, he mouthed some incoherent words, his lips unreadable as his pulse slowed and his wide eyes glazed over. His blood was sour, an unwelcome taste in Gaara's sand. Pressing his lips to the wound, he licked tentatively.

"I love you. Now you can't leave me."

--

The lyrics at the start are from Amour by Rammstein.

This is just to relieve some tension and try and redue the writes block.

Feel free to rip it to shreads, it needs alot of improving.

Be brutal xD


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